


Agent O

by Rae_Saxon



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: Agent O and the Doctor meet for the first time - And hit it off immediately.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Tenth Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 274





	Agent O

“Uhm,” the Doctor made, looking a little lost as he hung from one foot down the ceiling, embarrassingly easy trapped, even by his very low standards. The two people who had entered after he had set up the alarm, were standing still, in their black suits and blank expressions. “Hi. I'm the Doctor.”

They let him down – not exactly gently – and led him into the surveillance van, where that grumpy looking woman was already waiting for him.

“I can explain, you see, there were cables and I just wanted to take a quick look...”

“Doctor, we have asked you to help us, not give away our position to our subjects.”

“Okay, see, that was not my intention, but...”

“We think you'll be better off leading the analytics. You know? Tech. Information gathering. Research.”

The Doctor's face darkened.

“It's funny, they used to tell me the same thing at school. I've never been much of an office person myself, if I could just take one look around...”

The van's motors roared beneath him.

With a sigh, the Doctor sat down.

“Thought so...” he mumbled.

He really had thought working for MI6 would be more fun than this, but the reality was, that it was a bit like being back at UNIT again. A lot of people debating over blowing stuff up, a lot of useless gimmicks and loads of grumpy faces.

The Doctor was led into a little laboratory, but no one was actually building or experimenting – Which was the only good thing about a lab job, clearly.

Instead, there was one person standing in front of a laptop, clearly focused on a hacking job.

Yawn.

“Agent O, this is the Doctor, he will help you with your tasks.”

The man, not having looked up from his laptop once, turned around suddenly, his eyebrows raised. Behind him, the program he was using beeped impatiently.

“What? I d... I don't need help.”

“That's brilliant, because he is absolutely none. Keep him busy before he destroys the operation with his constant meddling.”

Agent O's lips twitched, as if he was holding back a smile.

The Doctor waited until the door had been – harshly – shut behind his escort, then snorted.

“Well, I didn't exactly ask to be involved in this “operation” in the first place. They're not even giving me details about what it's about. So what it's about?”

Without asking, he pulled the laptop towards him and put on his reading glasses, ready to crack whatever was going on.

He frowned and opened a tab behind the hacking tool.

“Are you playing Minesweeper?”

Agent O shrugged, a cautious grin building on his full lips.

“This is where they put you, if they, let's say... don't think they need our services. It's nothing but a job to keep me busy. I've been trying to tell them...” He stepped closer, whispering conspiratorially “... I think it's alien. I told them to call UNIT, but they won't listen. Calling me crazy. I collected evidence... but they don't want to hear anything about it.”

“Ah, the human race,” the Doctor replied with a smirk. “Going to deny the existence of something out of their world until the day it jumps them in the face.”

“And after that, too,” O snorted.

“Well,” the Doctor grinned. “I'm the Doctor and I'm alien and I'm _very_ interested in your evidence. Do tell!”

O looked taken aback, only for a second, before he caught himself.

“You... are?”

“Time Lord,” the Doctor smiled. “Got anything on us? Well. Probably not. I'm the last one. Well. Almost. Well. Technically, the last one again. It's complicated.”

The way Agent O looked at him made the Doctor realise quite quickly, that his feeble attempt of glossing over his pain hadn't worked in the slightest. It was funny – The warmth in those brown eyes made him feel understood, more understood than he usually felt under humans. As close as this planet had gotten to a home, at the end of a day he was still a stranger here, still alone, still the last of his kind surrounded by people who had never felt the same loneliness he was going through.

But something in those eyes caught him in free-fall and made his hearts beat faster.

Dammit.

His last human crush hadn't exactly ended _less_ painful for him. This was not a good idea, at all.

But someone should tell his hearts this.

“Well, I'm O,” the man smiled, and his whole, quite beautiful face lit up. “I'm not the last of my kind, but definitely the only of my kind in here.”

The Doctor grinned.

“I bet! I know these sort of people! Dusty old idiots, sitting on their arses, trying to prevent change, never looking past the own horizon. Hey, that's a great code name! You're now the horizon gazer. Because you're clearly ready to look beyond it! Okay. Okay. Tell me everything.”

It turned out to be a tiny little Sea Devil invasion. Nothing to worry about in the slightest – The Doctor, knowing what to do immediately.... Had almost been eaten alive and saved by O's quick thinking and pile of files, that had given the MI6 all the knowledge they needed.

Of course, within weeks, they would forget all about it, call UNIT crazy again and claim it had been an enemy group of spies in costumes.

There was no changing their beliefs.

There was, however, the issue of having to change bandages.

“It's a nice place you have here,” the Doctor commented, while O took care of the bandages on his arm. He could've done it himself, really.

But there was the little issue of not wanting to.

Soft, gentle fingers brushed his arms, as the bandage was looped around his arm again and again.

“You'll have to help me,” O muttered when he was done. “I don't know how to bind it up.”

The Doctor showed him with a raised eyebrow.

“A spy who doesn't know how to apply bandages?”

O shrugged. “Guess there's a reason they stuffed me into analytics. I'm not really good at all the typical spy stuff. More of a super mind.”

“Clearly,” the Doctor laughed, carefully waving around his injured arm in a test run. “It'll be fine soon enough,” he sighed. “My wounds usually heal faster than human's, in any way.”

O nodded and packed away his first-aid kit.

“Saved my life out there, you know that, right?” The Doctor mentioned as he followed him through his house. Not many personal items around, he noticed. No sign of a partner.

Not that he cared.

“Oh, don't... mention it, really,” O waved dismissively.

“It's true though,” the Doctor sighed. “I know these people are trying to shut you down, but you keep up the good work, eh? It's important someone does.”

O turned around to him, smiling.

“I will. I'm not one to give up.”

“You and me both,” the Doctor smirked.

For some reason, the Doctor didn't feel quite like leaving yet (and where to anyway?) and O didn't seem to mind. They had settled down on his sofa, the Doctor's legs somehow lying in his lap, his back against the arm-rest to face him and it was entirely comfortable.

He even had made tea, and boy, that was the best tea he had gotten served on Earth that far.

“So you mentioned... being the last of your kind?”

And woosh, there went the cosy feeling of security and comfort, that had spread inside the Doctor. He sighed.

“Oh, come on,” O smiled, not without understanding. “You can't tease something like that and then not follow up.”

The Doctor looked at these warm eyes again and thought... Well, why not. He hadn't really talked about all of this... Maybe he needed to. What was the harm, any more? With this life coming to an end, there was very little left to lose.

He shrugged.

“My people died. Some... someone survived, but then...” His gaze darkened. “Let's just say, he wasn't my biggest fan. He died to spite me.”

O frowned. “Really? That seems an... odd reason to die. I would think you're not that important.”

The Doctor, staring darkly into his tea cup, didn't notice the agent's glare, when he replied, “Well, you would think that, but I've always been a bit of a... sore point for him. He flies to me like a moth to the flame and then gets burned again and again.... Got. Past tense.” He took a deep breath and quickly took another sip of this brilliant tea, and when he looked up again, O's expression was already back to being perfectly in control again.

“Lonely, are you?”

“Well,” the Doctor gave him a sad little half-smile. “Yeah. Dropped my friends off, watched my.... best enemy die, been told that I'm dying soon. Can't say it's all that nice.”

“Dying soon?” O's eyebrows shot into the air.

The Doctor waved it off. “Sorry. Too much dark stuff for one evening.”

“Riiight,” O replied. “Well. How about a deal. I'll give you my number. Text me whenever you want. If you want to, you know, one day talk about it, I'll listen. And maybe, you know, some updates now and then, so I know you're not really dead?”

The Doctor contemplated that.

“Haven't really used my phone a lot but... yeah,” he finally said with a light tone in his voice. “Why not.”

They exchanged numbers and when the Doctor looked up from his phone again, he caught the other's smile, and for a second, his stomach seemed to offer home to a lot of homeless butterflies.

“I can help with your loneliness, too,” O replied, his voice suddenly low and... well, there was no other way to say it, seductive. Shivers ran down the Doctor's spine.

“Oh yes?”

“You bet.”

Those lips, the Doctor thought, as he was being pressed, first against a wall, then a mattress, were even softer than they looked. It was no wonder he had fallen for this man so quickly. Such a kind, open soul, such a warm, gentle body, what other way had there ever been?

Rough, he heard the Master's voice in his mind, as he was being taken incredibly tenderly in contrast. Rough and hard, with scratchy beard and ice-cold eyes.

But not today, the Doctor thought. Today he needed to feel loved like a fragile butterfly, not desired like a sun that burnt up everything that tried to touch it.

Just for a little while.

She texted the familiar number many lifetimes later. Knowing who he really was, she had scrolled through all their conversations, voice memos and pictures. It was weird, how little it had changed. The Master had known all these things about her, long before she had told him – But it still had been nice to share them, to be understood, even if it had been fake.

“ _You know,_ ” she wrote. “ _You were pretty good at loving me. I can't believe all of that was played_.”

She didn't expect a reply. After their battle for the universe – yet again – he had fallen to his death. That meant it would be at least one or two weeks until he came back without explanation to give her hell.

But this time, he replied immediately, even sent a little winking selfie of himself, with a bandage around his wrist.

Guess it was good she had taught him how to do that, then.

His reply made her smile, just a little, just enough to not let her friends know.

“ _Haven't you learned by now, that the one truth in all of my acts has always been you?_ ”


End file.
